Second Sight
by FerretMalfoy
Summary: Due to a freak accident during Potions, Draco gains the ability of being an Empath. The catch is that he can't handle the power and Harry must help him or he will go insane or even die. HarryDraco SLASH!
1. Hmmm semicliche much?

Title: Second Sight  
  
Author: FerretMalfoy  
  
Rating: Eventually a nice, familial R or NC-17.  
  
Notes: Plot totally stolen from an episode of Charmed, but has some twists to it. :) And I got the title from listening to Pink Floyd's 'The Wall' way to much. It's from the song 'Nobody Home' Definition: second sight-noun-apparent power to perceive things that are not present to the senses   
  
Summary: Due to a freak accident during Potions, Draco gains the ability of being an Empath. The catch is that he can't handle the power and Harry must help him or he will go insane or even die. Life can be so complicated for my favorite boys. Set during their seventh year.   
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, I could make all the little gay boys in the books come out of the closet and the series would quickly turn into one big lovefest. But I don't own it, so don't get your hopes up. :) And I don't own the Cheshire Cat or Kodak.  
  
~~  
  
Chapter One  
  
~~  
  
Pain. Anger. Happiness. Elation. Contentment. Boredom. Fear. Depression. Confusion. Amusement. Hatred. Lust.   
  
Draco screamed and fell to the cold floor of the potions classroom, dropping the vial of what was supposed to be the Disorientation Potion. He covered his head trying to prevent the onlsaught of thoughts and emotions that crashed through his head.   
  
Harry Potter, his lab partner, was instantly beside him, shoving his dislike for the Slytherin into the back of his mind.   
  
"What did you do to him, Potter?" Snape asked, rushing to his favorite student's side and attempting to restrain the flailing and now-whimpering boy. Draco pulled away from the professor's strong arms, screaming in agony.  
  
"Don't touch me!" the blond screamed. "It hurts! It all hurts. STOP! Stop thinking, feeling. I can hear you!"  
  
"Draco, please, are you-"  
  
"No." Draco backed up into a corner of the cold dungeon room, putting his arms over his head and shutting his eyes. He was breathing heavily, trying desparately not to hypervenalate.  
  
"Pain. Pain. Pain." He clenched his teeth then let out another yell. Every glass container in the Potions classroom exploded, splashing the contents onto the robes of the students.  
  
Harry looked on in confusion. What was wrong with his enemy? It wasn't anything visible. Everyone evacuated the room except for Snape and Harry.  
  
"Malfoy?" Harry ventured. He was supposed to be a hero, right? Surely he could help this wreck of a boy that sat huddled in front of him.   
  
No response.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Leave." Was the reply from the upset boy.  
  
"But I-"  
  
"Not you, Potter. Severus. Leave, Severus."  
  
"Draco, I need to help you," said the extremely worried Snape (Draco was like a nephew to him).   
  
"You can help me by leaving. I can't bear your sadness and your suffering. Even your anxiety is affecting me. Please go before it gets worse." Professor Snape looked to the Gryffindor and then to the Slytherin once more. In spite of his best instincts, the head of Slytherin house nodded, and left.   
  
"I'll be right outside the door, Potter, if anything happens. And if you do anything to him, so help me..." He left the threat in the air before making his exit.   
  
"Draco, are you alright now?" Harry crouched down to look the blond in the face, wondering why Draco could only bear to have him in the room. Draco shook his head in the negative, looking at Harry with teary eyes. At that moment Harry felt as if his heart had broken into a thousand little pieces because of that look.  
  
"Harry, stop feeling sad for me." The black-haired boy stared at the other for a second. Could Draco read minds now?  
  
"Kinda."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I can kind of read minds, Harry."  
  
"Oh." Harry blinked and then decided to concentrate on helping Draco. "Is there anything I can do for you? Am I hurting you with my thoughts?"  
  
Draco waved a hand as if to dismiss his questions. "No, just the others. I have a really bad migraine, though. If you would please help me to Madame Pomfrey's, that would be lovely."  
  
Since when did Malfoy say 'please' and 'lovely'? questioned Harry silently.  
  
"Since you're the only one who isn't harmful right now. And I use lovely all of the time, as in 'Oh, my, that cauldron exploding in the Weasel's face was lovely' or 'Harry Potter sure does have a tight, pert, lovely arse.'"   
  
Gulp.   
  
"Relax, it was a joke." A joke, right. Harry pushed his glasses up, attempting to hide his blush with his hand. If Draco noticed, he didn't say anything. Standing up on wobbly legs, Draco grabbed the surface of the nearest work table, putting his weight on it. "Little help here, Hero?" Harry rushed to him and held him up, putting his arm around the blond's waist and using the other one to grab a hold of his hand. They hobbled along to the entrance of the classroom. "I think I've got it on my own now, Potter." Draco had become more stable as they walked, and his voice no longer wavered.  
  
Harry bit his lip in disappointment, but let go of the other boy, opening the heavy door for him. No sooner had they entered the hallway did Draco collapse into Harry's arms, passing out. Scooping the Slytherin up in his arms, Harry carried him to the Infirmary.  
  
~~  
  
Soon enough, the rumors had spread like wildfire. The gossips around the school were oozing with false information and practically orgasming over it. "Did you hear? Harry Potter poisoned Draco Malfoy." "Harry and Draco were fighting over the same girl..." "Harry and Draco were lovers, but Draco broke up with him, so..."  
  
~~  
  
When Draco awoke, the shouts began again, much to the dismay of the people surrounding his hospital bed; Draco shrieked like a banshee!   
  
"Draco," a hand was on his shoulder. "It's alright, I'm here." And he was calmed for the time being. Looking up into the worried green eyes, he smiled slightly. He was rewarded with a Cheshire Cat grin and a feeling that warmed his heart.   
  
Clearing his throat, Snape interrupted the Kodak moment, glaring at Harry. Draco glanced around him sheepishly at Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Bill Weasley (this year's DADA teacher), and Madame Pomfrey.  
  
"Hey," he said weakly.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore responded. "How do you feel?"  
  
"Like shit, to be honest." McGonagall opened her mouth to reprimand him, but was shushed by a look from the headmaster. Draco closed his eyes at the wave of shock McGonagall sent his way. Snape, he knew, was a nervous wreck, even though his face showed naught but a scowl. Dumbledore simply gave the blond's mind an impression of bubbles and lemon drops, which made him kind of dizzy.  
  
Bill Weasley, however, was a different case. He was burning with lust for...for...Draco couldn't read that far into it.   
  
"Goodness," whispered Draco with uncomfortable expression. He shook his head as if to clear it, then asked, "What the hell happened to me?" Again, disapproval from the deputy headmistress's direction.   
  
"Well," began the headmaster, who seemed greatly amused. "From what Severus has told me, it appears that the potion that Draco drank tapped the part of his mind that would normally never be used. He has become what is known as an empath. He's now able to feel others' emotions, project his own, and also, sometimes, read others' thoughts."  
  
"Um, Sir?" Harry said. "How come he only stops screaming when I touch him?" Dumbledore's eyes held that twinkle that Harry was beginning to recognize as a forewarning to something embarassing and/or terrible happening.  
  
"Apparently, you're sharing your magic with him, which allows his burden to keep him sane. You see, Draco was never meant to have this power and without you touching him, he would go insane and eventually die."  
  
Harry blinked, then blinked again. "So, I have to touch him forever?" Draco was offended until he probed Harry's mind and found that there was no disgust in his emotions. Just a mumbled up ball of confusion and something else he couldn't identify.  
  
"Actually, no. Most times you only have to be near him to prevent the waves of emotion. Only when people are strongly projecting or when there is a large group of people around will he need touch."  
  
"Oh." If anyone noticed that Harry still gripped Draco's shoulder, they didn't mention their observations. Draco, however, felt the amusement from Snape's direction and glared at him.  
  
"I'm glad you think this is so funny, Severus," he said resentfully, as if a bee were in his knickers. "Just as I think that it's funny that you harbor less than platonic feelings towards one Professor-" Draco stopped mid-sentence as Harry gripped his shoulder rather tightly. Looking up, the blond questioned the other with raised eyebrows. Harry shook his head slightly and looked towards Bill. He was projecting anxiety and hope.   
  
Oh. Severus was whom the Weasley was lusting for. Draco snorted.   
  
"Silly boys," he thought aloud, earning curious gazes from the others. He didn't try to explain himself as he didn't care if they wanted to know. "If you want to find out, become an empath yourself. Why should I do all the work?"  
  
"Ahem." Dumbledore quietly captured the group's attention once again. "About living arrangements. It would be easier if you two had been in the same house, but seeing as you aren't-"   
  
'Please not the dungeons,' Draco picked up from Harry.   
  
"Headmaster," interrupted Draco, appearing his normal, arrogant self. "I'd rather not take Potter into the dungeons. He wouldn't survive an hour without running back to Gryffindor tower and crying about the horrible Slytherins to Granger and Weasel." Harry didn't know whether he was offended or relieved at the moment.  
  
"Then what would you suggest, Mr. Malfoy?"   
  
"Setting up an extra bed in the seventh year Gryffindor boys dormitory. Or I could use Weasel's bed while he sleeps in the hallway." The blond shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "Whichever. At least I know I won't be stabbed in my sleep amongst the noble Gryffindors." Draco laid back into his soft pillows, eyes closed. Now that he thought about it, he was very tired.  
  
"I suppose those arrangements can be made," agreed the headmaster. "Bill, will you please inform the other boys about the predicament?" Nodding, the man left in a flurry of red hair. "The rest of us should also leave. I believe the young Malfoy is starting to feel the draining effects of this afternoon's...activities." They all said their goodbyes and walked out of the room, leaving Draco and Harry by themselves.   
  
"I thought they would never leave," Draco said around a yawn. "McGonagall's the most uptight prude of all prudes."  
  
"Tell me about it." Harry was feeling a bit uneasy with Draco's sudden comradely attitude towards him.   
  
"Relax, Potter," Draco murmured, not even bothering to open his eyes. "As soon as this is all over, we can go back to hating each other as per usual. Stop freaking out about it." Disappointment. "Or we can be friends and frolic together in a field picking daisies and sharing our deepest, darkest secrets."  
  
"Frolic?" Either chuckled at Draco's choice of example.   
  
"Okay, so maybe not frolic, but it could happen, you know. We could be friends and I could help save the world alongside you like Ron and Hermione." Joy. "What? Why are you suddenly so happy?"  
  
"Nothing...it's just...you called Ron and Hermione by their actual names. Not Mudblood or Weasel."  
  
"Don't get used to it, Harry. It's only because I'm very tired. Speaking of which, I'm going to go to sleep now." Rolling over onto his side and facing Harry, he cuddled close to one of his pillows and concentrated on the emotional warmth that radiated off of the black-haired boy. He soon fell into a deep sleep.  
  
Harry watched him for a bit, then pulled up a chair, pondering what he was feeling for the Slytherin at the moment. It certainly wasn't the familiar contempt.   
  
~~  
  
A/N: You like? If so, please review. Feel free to give suggestions on further situations and such. Don't be to harsh with criticism, as I am sort of proud of this fic. 


	2. Harry's Coming Out Party

Title: Second Sight  
  
Author: FerretMalfoy  
  
Rating: Eventually a nice, familial R or NC-17.  
  
Notes: Plot totally stolen from an episode of Charmed, but has some twists to it. :) And I got the title from listening to Pink Floyd's 'The Wall' way to much. It's from the song 'Nobody Home' Definition: second sight-noun-apparent power to perceive things that are not present to the senses   
  
Summary: Due to a freak accident during Potions, Draco gains the ability of being an Empath. The catch is that he can't handle the power and Harry must help him or he will go insane or even die. Life can be so complicated for my favorite boys. Set during their seventh year.   
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, I could make all the little gay boys in the books come out of the closet and the series would quickly turn into one big lovefest. But I don't own it, so don't get your hopes up. :)  
  
~~  
  
Chapter Two A  
  
~~  
  
"So he's staying here?" Harry sighed.   
  
"Yes, Ron." The redhead blinked, watching Malfoy, who was quietly unpacking his things. If Harry knew Ron--and he did--he would explode any second now.   
  
"With us?" The Boy Who Lived nodded. Was Ron ever going to step out of shock and into outrage? This was becoming tiresome. Besides, Ron all ready knew everything as Bill had explained it.   
  
"Don't worry, Weasley. I promise I won't get my cooties everywhere," Draco drawled from where he now sat on Harry's bed. Absentmindedly, he leaned to where Harry was standing at the foot of the bed and brushed the Gryffindor's hand. It felt relieving to him, like a cold compress when one has a fever, but Harry felt something akin to an electric shock run up his arm.   
  
"You know, Harry, from what you tell me you could always let the prat suffer and go insane." Harry glared at his best friend.  
  
"You know that's never an option for me. I can't resist a damsel in distress." Draco opened his mouth to protest, narrowing his eyes at Harry. "He'll behave if he knows what's good for him." Draco glared.   
  
"I will do as I please." The two stared each other down until Draco conceded. "You didn't have to push that on me, you prick. I feel violated." Shivering, he turned away from the Gryffindor's and stared at the wall. He could feel the amusement flowing off of the others and let out a displeased 'hmph'.   
  
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, wondering what was going on between his best friend and his arch nemesis.   
  
"None of your business, Weasley." Scowling, Ron looked at Harry again.   
  
"So, mate, where's the ferret going to sleep?" Harry was about to give his reply, but Draco beat him to it.   
  
"I may be a ferret, but you're still a weasel, Weasel. A poor one at that. At least I'm a ferret with money to my name."   
  
"Why you little-" Ron flung himself at Draco, who was ready for him. Harry tried to stop it to no avail.   
  
"Impedimenta!" The boys stopped moving. Harry picked up Draco and put him on his bed, then he placed Ron on his own. "This is ridiculous! You-" He pointed to Ron. "-Need to learn to ignore him. He might be here for a while. Hell, this thing might last forever and ever, so just get used to it for the sake of my sanity." Calmed down a bit, Harry lifted the charm from the two. Ron tossed a glare at the now smirking Draco, then left the room in a hurry.  
  
Harry sighed and looked sadly at the closed door for a second, before turning to the satisfied Draco. "Don't think you will get off so lightly, Malfoy!" Frowning, Draco felt the anger and sadness and disappointment flowing from the dark haired boy. Shaking his head (which he quite often did since this morning's potions lesson), he regained a sense of himself.   
  
"I didn't think I'd get off at all today, Potter, but if you're offering-" Harry growled at the not so subtle implications of the other boy.  
  
"Just when I thought you could be civilized, you go and revert back to your insults. I don't care if you don't like Ron, you have no need to go and upset him like that."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Yes, I know that he was out of line with that ferret bit, but you could have ignored it. I mean, if I end up having to choose sides...well, I don't want to have to. Let's not forget that I'm saving your hide by agreeing to help you. Don't be an ungrateful little bastard about it." Harry finally stopped his speech and plopped down beside Draco on his bed.  
  
'Just as I was starting to like you, too,' Harry thought, then immediately looked over at Draco and knew that he had read his thoughts. He had a look of awe on his face.  
  
"You like me?" He asked, as if he couldn't comprehend what that meant.  
  
"No, I was starting to like you, as in just on the verge on. Then you reminded me why I never liked you to begin with."  
  
"Because my good looks and sharp wit make you feel inferior?"  
  
"Wow. How could I ever resist your charms?" Harry said sarcastically. Draco ignored his comment and got up from the bed. He paced around the room, seemingly restless.   
  
"You are harder to read than others, therefore I am bored." Draco paused in front of Harry, hand on hip.  
  
"I fail to see how that bothers me." Harry pulled his school bag off the floor and opened it, removing his Potions text. Draco sighed and sat down next to Harry again, looking annoyed.   
  
Moments later, Draco was staring at Harry so intensely that the Gryffindor could not stand it. Finally, he snapped his head around. "What?"   
  
Leaning in close enough to make Harry nervous, Draco whispered, "Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful emerald eyes?" He reached his hand up to the bespectacled boy and removed his glasses, caressing his face. The new empath could feel the fluttering feeling coursing through Harry, and pulled back; he had only been playing around, but Harry...  
  
"Um..." Draco put the boy's glasses back on and put some space between their bodies.  
  
"See what happens when I'm bored, Potter? I mess with people." Harry sighed feeling sad. Draco would never stop being a prat, it seemed.  
  
"Fine. What do you want to do, then?" Crossing his arms, Draco thought.  
  
"Let's play a game." The Slytherin had a mischievioius glint in his eyes.  
  
"What kind of game? Chess? Exploding Snap?"  
  
The blond shook his head. "Don't be so simple, Potter." Offense rolled off of Harry in waves.  
  
"I meant a fun game. I call it 'Toying With the Gryffindors.'" While Harry was glad that Draco had stopped commenting on his eye color and touching his face, he didn't want to hurt anyone. He voiced his thoughts. "Don't worry. It'll be between you and me." Draco felt his hesitation. "Please, Harry." The eyes of the other boy pleaded with Harry also. "It might help learn to control my power better."  
  
"Okay," Harry agreed, melting into a puddle of goo when he looked into those silver-gray eyes. He wondered how he'd gotten himself into this as he picked up his books. Harry was tugged out of the dorm by the now not-bored blond, then taken into the common room.   
  
~~  
  
"Do you wanna know what Granger is thinking? It's quite funny." Harry made a sound of acknowledgment and went back to writing his Divination charts out. Their feet tangled together under the table (purely for Draco's comfort, of course). Draco, who hated to be ignored, became a tad angry. "She's thinking about how hard she wants Snape to fuck her on his desk."  
  
This caught Harry's attention. His head snapped up and he looked positively grossed out. "Why would you tell me that? Is she really...does she?" Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
"Of course not, Potter. She's thinking about the Weasel. Head Girl Granger would never think such thoughts. You Gryffindors are rather boring, actually." The Gryffindor went back to his school work.  
  
An eyebrow raised. "Says the boy who entertains himself by bothering us boring Gryffindors. Say, do you think death by spork is too unbelievable?"   
  
"What the hell is a spork?*" Harry didn't bother to answer Draco's question.  
  
"You're right...rusty spoon it is." Leaning over his parchment, Draco blocked Harry's light. The other sighed and looked up at the curious empath.  
  
"I don't get you," he stated accusingly. "Why do you take a class if you don't like it?" A crease appeared between Draco's eyebrows in his confusion.   
  
"Easy pass."  
  
"But you never learn anything. What's the point?"  
  
"I was rather busy worrying about Voldemort-sorry-"(Draco had flinched) "-when I chose this course." Draco dropped the subject due to Harry's bitter tone. Voldemort, as everyone knew, was a sensitive subject; it was common knowledge that no one knew what happened during the final battle but Harry, Dumbledore, and Snape.  
  
Draco let out an exaggerated sigh and looked around the common room. "I still don't get Gryffindors though."  
  
"How do you mean? Is it because we aren't willing to stab our friends in the-" Harry bit his lip and stopped speaking. He looked away from Draco's eyes and at the wall; it had become a habit.   
  
"Anyway," Draco said, impatient to have his say without Harry's emotional problems getting in the way. "What's the big thing about homosexuality in this house?" Harry's quill dropped in his surprise.   
  
"What-what do you mean?"  
  
"Everyone in this house is so afraid to be gay. I mean you guys seriously need to crawl out of the closet. Thomas, Finnigan, Brown, Creevey-"  
  
"No surprise there. He's stalked me since day one."   
  
"-You." Harry jumped out of his seat in disbelief, causing his books to fall to the floor.   
  
When he spoke, it was entirely too quickly to not be covering anything up. "I'm not!"  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, then pointed at his temple. "Empath, remember?" Harry sighed and gave up, knowing that there was no denying anything with Draco. "Anyway, you set my gaydar* off like Justin Finch-Fletchley."  
  
Harry gasped. "But he's so effeminate! I'm not that bad!"  
  
Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes again. "There you go being a drama queen." Harry glared at Draco then slumped down in his seat with a growl.   
  
"Takes one to know one."  
  
"Your wit and come-back ability astounds the mind, Potter."  
  
TBC  
  
~~  
  
A/N: That seems like a nice place to stop. Please review, it improves my self-esteem and helps my histrionic tendencies.  
  
*=A spork is something we have here in the States. It's a combination spoon and fork; resembles a grapefruit spoon.  
  
*#2=For those unfortunate souls who don't know what it is, 'gaydar' is the term used to mean gay radar.  
  
THANKS TO ALL OF MY REVIEWERS:  
  
Lisa [Snapdragongrrl]  
  
Alize  
  
Sarah [ElectricanDroid]  
  
Evermoon  
  
Death, Ruler of All  
  
platy bear  
  
SkyeLight2x1- You'll have to find your answers by reading  
  
K-chan  
  
Redmeadow  
  
hyakuhei  
  
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Sarah  
  
Michelle  
  
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Sorry if I left anyone out, but if I did, thank you, too! 


	3. 2B Sleepy Time

Second Sight By Ferret Malfoy  
  
~~~~~ Chapter Two B SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS (Wherein Dumbledore is Not Very Considerate of Draco's Comfort) ~~~~~  
  
"No. Nope. Absolutely not. I get the bed, and you get the cot." Draco tilted his head and stuck his nose in the air.   
  
"Malfoys do NOT sleep on cots," he said haughtily. "Weasleys sleep on cots. I'm simply not that common. I refuse." Harry shrugged and pulled back his comforter.   
  
"You can refuse all you want, but I'm sleeping in my own bed." He stretched out, then slid under the warm blankets with a content sigh. Draco looked at his cot disdainfully; It looked lumpy and uncomfortable. The other boys in the dorm were already asleep, but he'd be damned if anyone would see him sleeping on a cot like a peasant.   
  
"Oompf."  
  
"Move over, Potter."  
  
"Fuck off, Malfoy." Draco was kicked off of the bed by a sleepy, cross Gryffindor. Underlying the anger, was fear; the empath filed that away for future use.   
  
"But...but, it's freezing this close to the floor!" He complained.   
  
"You are a wizard. Cast a warming spell on your blanket."  
  
"But I can feel you," Draco whined, "And you feel absolutely comfortable. It's mean to let me know how it feels, yet I can't feel it." Okay, so that only made sense to Draco; it didn't matter. "Anyway, I can't touch you from here and it hurts." Harry sighed and rolled over to the edge of the bed. He stuck out his hand and grabbed Draco's. "Well, sleeping like this will just be awkward. Both of us will wake up with sore arms, and then where will we be?"  
  
"You'll be in a full-body cast if you don't shut up, Malfoy."  
  
"Oh, well I like that. Threats and such. After all of my pain and sacrifices today, I'm threatened by Harry bloody Potter. What would your fans say?"  
  
"They'd cheer me on. Now go to sleep before I spell you to sleep." Draco lowered himself into a laying position on the lumpy cot and turned onto his side to face Harry. The boy was in that place where he was not quite asleep, but certainly not awake. "Sweet dreams, Potter," he whispered before drifting off, holding Harry's hand close to him.   
  
~~  
  
Draco sat up, gasping. He looked at the hand he clutched over his heart, then the face of the person said hand belonged to. Harry's eyebrows were drawn together and his mouth moved, yet no words came out. "Oh god, oh god," the empath muttered, running his free hand through his hair. Harry writhed on the bed, holding his forehead. That poor little girl, Draco thought, swallowing the urge to vomit. "Oh, Harry," he whispered, "You poor bastard."   
  
Draco did everything to try to soothe him until the vision stopped. He ran his hand over Harry's, then up the arm. Running his hand over the boy's soft cheek seemed to help some. He fingered the crease between Harry's eyebrows until it eased up. Hesitating, the fingers hovered over the lightning bolt scar, the dropped to rest on it. The boy immediately desisted in his restlessness, sighing at the touch.   
  
Looking at the clock, Draco discovered that it was five in the morning. He would have to get up in two hours to prepare for class. He didn't get back to sleep, but adjusted himself into a comfortable sitting position and watched over Harry. Why he did this, he did not know, nor did he want to know.   
  
~~~~~  
  
FM: Okay, so that's that. Sorry it took me so long to get this out, but this is not the original version. I was going to have them sleep in the same bed, but that's too cliché for me. Thanks to all my reviewers, and I should have chapter three up soon. It will hopefully be very long. Expect kissage in chapter five!  
  
Please review! 


	4. The Swing of Things

Title: Second Sight  
  
Author: FerretMalfoy  
  
Rating: Eventually a nice, familial R or NC-17.  
  
Summary: Due to a freak accident during Potions, Draco gains the ability of being an Empath. The catch is that he can't handle the power and Harry must help him or he will go insane or even die. Life can be so complicated for my favorite boys. Set during their seventh year.   
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, I could make all the little gay boys in the books come out of the closet and the series would quickly turn into one big lovefest. But I don't own it, so don't get your hopes up. :)  
  
Warning:OotP spoilers. Note: Remember, when it comes to Snape's show of emotion, Draco can project his emotions, causing other people to feel what he is feeling.  
  
~~  
  
CHAPTER THREE- The Swing of Things  
  
~~  
  
Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap-  
  
"Will you stop it?" Harry whispered to the fair-haired boy next to him. This earned him a hard stare, but at least the finger-tapping had stopped. He ignored the bored sighs Draco exhaled. It was no secret that History of Magic was terribly unexciting, but did the empath have to make such a big deal about it?  
  
"What's wrong?" Draco asked, sensing the irritation the boy was feeling. Harry glared at the other, then averted his stare back to his blank parchment where notes should have been. "Well, if you were surrounded by thirty bored people and could feel their emotions, you would be acting like this, too," he snapped. Harry's resolve immediately softened and he felt guilty for being annoyed.   
  
"I'm sorry, I just-" Harry was cut off by Hermione shushing him. He smiled at the girl, who became confused; she had given him an idea. 'Is there anything I can do?' He thought as loudly as he could.   
  
"Ow!" Draco interjected. The class welcomed the distraction, but Professor Binns didn't even pause in his speech. He kicked Harry under the table, then rubbed at his throbbing temples. The dark-haired boy looked apologetic and turned back to Professor Binns, attempting to pay attention. The last thirty minutes of the class went by, and the boys found themselves walking to Divination.  
  
"Why did you yell at me?" Draco demanded, grabbing Harry's hand and wrapping his fingers around the other's. The contact immediately relieved the pounding in his head; the brush of cloth-covered leg against cloth-covered leg in class hadn't been quite so potent.  
  
"I didn't mean to," Harry explained, glaring at his fellow Gryffindors, who were making no attempts to stifle their laughter. "I wasn't sure how well the mind-reading thingy works, so I thought as loudly as I could."   
  
"Next time, just think like you usually would. It gave me a headache." Harry reached up to soothe the other, placing his hand on Draco's temple and rubbing lightly. Draco sighed. Their...bond had some nice attributes to it, he had to admit. Seamus and Dean's choked sniggers broke through their...moment, causing Harry's hand to retreat. Briefly, he felt the confusion of the other boy, before he felt nothing at all. Harry had put up a mental block.  
"Oh, go screw each other!" Draco yelled at Seamus and Dean's retreating backs. He felt a wave of panic from their direction and smirked in satisfaction. Stupid Gryffindors with their phobia of homophobia. "They probably will go screw each other," he told Harry, who was standing at least a foot away from him. His skin was itching for contact, even though he had just touched Harry not a minute ago. The empathy was getting stronger. They walked down the hallway silently, Draco trying to pick-up on Harry's thoughts and Harry effectively closing off his mind.   
Up the stairs and through a trap door in the ceiling and they were there. Trelawny sat in the corner, looking into her crystal ball, her big bug eyes magnified in the reflection. Her mind was unsurprisingly blank. "High on incense." Draco turned to Harry, who shrugged and smiled sheepishly. Leading the way, Draco sat on the pink pouf that sat near Ron, surprising the class. Harry took the remaining one in-between his best friend and his...his, um enemy(?). When Draco felt the happiness radiating from Harry, he sighed. It was worth sitting near a poor muggle-loving Weasley.  
That class period, as they were reading their tea leaves, Harry slipped his hand into Draco's without needing prompting.   
  
~~  
  
"-And that's when Professor Sinistra preformed a striptease to "Hot For Teacher" and Blaise stood up in class and confessed his undying love for her." Hermione sighed, snapping her fingers in front of Harry's face. "Honestly, Harry, if you aren't going to pay attention to me, at least tell me." Smiling at her apologetically, Harry shrugged.  
  
"Sorry, I'm just a bit distracted." Hermione snorted. Only a bit? she thought.   
  
"I wish you would tell me what's bothering you."   
  
"I just...I don't like being this far away from Draco. What if something happens to him?" Hermione looked at Harry, semi-amazed. Malfoy was only at the Head Table, talking to Professor Snape barely twenty feet away from where Harry was sitting. Harry, Hermione, and Draco were the only students left in the Great Hall, which was why Draco could be so far away from Harry.   
  
"Sometimes, I don't understand you. He's been your enemy from day one, and yet you still show him the same caring and compassion you would anyone else. You're either nutters or the purest, nicest person in the world."   
  
"Hermione, it's not as simple as that. I've thought about this a lot, even before this whole empathy thing came along. When I found out about Sirius' family background, it set me with another view of the so-called 'bad guys'. Draco was raised to be the way he was-" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "-is," Harry corrected. "He was taught by his father from day one that Muggles are inferior, Muggle-borns have dirty blood and aren't worthy of being wizards, and that they should be exterminated for being what they are. Children are very impressionable, so Lucius could make Draco believe everything he said."  
  
"Yes, but Sirius and even you, Harry, both came from horrible backgrounds, and yet you are, and were, both wonderful people. Draco's a nasty prat." Maybe Hermione was just trying to reassure herself of who was the enemy, or maybe she was trying to prevent her best friend from making a bad decision, but either way her argument wasn't achieving very much.   
  
"Yeah, but he's trying, you know."   
  
Hermione sighed."Yes, but for whom is he trying? Without you he'd be crazy, just remember that." Hermione got up and put her hand on Harry's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting way. "I'm going to go see how Ron is doing and maybe prod him into starting that Transfiguration essay. Will you be okay?"   
  
Harry smiled up at her, albeit a tad insincerely. "Yeah, I'll see you in the common room. I need help with one of the history questions."  
  
"Sure thing."  
  
~~  
  
Five minutes later, Harry felt a warm hand on his cheek and whipped his head around to see Draco standing there. Of course, the sudden movement made him fall off the bench. Standing, the Boy-Who-Lived ignored Draco's laughter and rubbed his abused bottom.   
  
"Are you done?" Harry asked, scowling. Draco cleared his throat and focused on Harry's emotions. His pride was hurt, but otherwise he wasn't really angry with the blond. The boys turned around when they heard rich, deep laughter fill the room.   
  
Snape was practically having a conniption fit in his chair, laughing without seeming to care who saw him.   
  
All in all, it was entirely disconcerting.   
  
"This is incredibly disturbing. We should get out of here before he realizes I'm the reason for it," Draco said. The two fled the Great Hall.  
  
"So, I picked up on yours and Granger's conversation," the empath said as they slowly made their way to Gryffindor Tower. "I didn't mean to, but, well, you know." He tapped his temple as he recently started doing to explain things.   
  
Harry didn't know what to say to the other.   
  
"I think it's good of you to put yourself in our shoes." Harry knew that 'our' meant the children of Death Eaters. "So many people just see black and white. Like father, like son."  
  
"People shouldn't be judged by their parents, or by how they were raised, but by their own actions."  
  
"What you must think of me..." Draco trailed off as Harry shook his head. They didn't say anything else as they walked. Harry had shut him out again, but not out of anger, which was why Draco didn't mention it. He didn't know why, but Harry's happiness was suddenly very important to him. Deciding it was part of the bond, Draco felt that he didn't need think about it any further.   
  
"Snarflat." The Flat Lady swung open and Harry and Draco entered the common room.   
  
"So, you needed help with that history question?" Harry nodded and arched an eyebrow in question (something he'd picked up from Snape, not that he'd ever admit to it). "Granger's busy with Longbottom, so I figured I could help. Spread the genius that is Draco Malfoy." Ah, the skepticism coming off of Harry really boosted his confidence. "Oh, shut up, Scar Head."  
  
"Don't get in a snit. I didn't even say anything."  
  
"But you were thinking it."  
  
"Yeah, and you're acting like a girl. Now, stop with the PMS and help me." Draco turned away from Harry, the perfect picture of snobbery.   
  
"Ask nicely." Harry sighed and flopped onto the Common Room's couch, rolling his eyes.   
  
"Please help me with my homework, Draco." The Gryffindors that sat near the duo were eyeing Harry like he'd gone off the deep end, and Harry thought that they might not be wrong. Of course, they didn't dare say anything about having a Malfoy in *their* common room; that would incur the wrath of Hermione, who'd taken the liberty of warning (*cough* threatening *cough*) everyone earlier.  
  
"Not good enough." Checking his watch, Harry wondered how long this was going to take. His history homework wasn't really worth it; it was only one question and Binns never took off much for each question not done.   
  
"O Draco, without you the sun would surely cease to shine and the moon would never hang in the night, for she would be bereft of your beauty. Please, pretty please, help me, for you are the only one wise enough to do so. I am at your mercy."  
  
"Potter, when you laugh, it makes me think you don't really care." Harry couldn't help himself; it was just so ridiculous. Even Ron (who sat on the other side of the room so as not to get polluted with ferret germs) was smiling. The concept of the two most notorious enemies of Hogwarts bantering and laughing with each other was so outrageous, and yet it was happening.   
  
Was it just yesterday morning that Draco was 'Malfoy' to Harry? Harry thought. Was it yesterday that Draco had pushed Harry into the wall on the way to Potions?  
  
"Yeah, it was." Draco broke Harry from his silent contemplation. The shields went up as they always did when Harry realized he was thinking too loudly. "Ugh, why do you always do that?" the Slytherin asked, raising his voice. He glared at the other students that were closely watching them, causing them to turn away.   
  
"Because I know things that I can't disclose."   
  
"Order business?"  
  
"Let's not talk about this here." Harry indicated the others around them. Draco didn't believe Harry, but he let it slide. He'd rather not have his only chance at living with his empathy hate him right now.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Come on, Potter."   
  
"What? Where?"   
  
"I need a shower." Harry's eyes widened to a cartoonish size. Draco tried to figure out what he was afraid of, but Harry's mind wouldn't let him in. Grabbing the boy's hand, Draco led him to the boys' showers.   
  
"C-can't you just, you know, use magic?"  
  
"That's hardly very soothing now, is it? I want a nice, hot shower."   
  
"But how are we going to-" Draco cut him off as he pushed the boy through the door of the shower room.  
  
"No one else is in here, so I won't need the contact. Just be sure you shower in the stall next to mine. Now strip down, Golden Boy, before I do it for you." He leered at Harry, who had blushed rather attractively, then set to removing his robes.   
  
~~~~~  
  
FM: Sorry darlings, but I need the shower scene for the next chapter. Can't have them getting together to soon, can I? Don't worry, there will be touching in the shower stalls, and maybe some wanking. Oh, what fun. ^.^ Please review. It might inspire me to write another 1,959 word chapter (so close to 2,000!). By the by, did this chapter seem a tad bit scattered and confusing to anyone else?   
  
Thanks to all those who reviewed last time. My most recent reviews left me glowing! ^.^ 


	5. Rub A Dub Dub

Title: Second Sight  
Author: FerretMalfoy  
Rating: Eventually a nice, familial R or NC-17.  
Summary: Due to a freak accident during Potions, Draco gains the ability of   
being an Empath. The catch is that he can't handle the power and Harry must help   
him or he will go insane or even die. Life can be so complicated for my   
favorite boys. Set during their seventh year.   
Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, Sev and Harry would have made out like mad   
during Occlumency lessons.  
Warning:OotP spoilers, masturbation.  
Thanks to:   
malfoyharry, Curious Dream Weaver, AoiHyou, usually immaculate aristocrat (Look   
Into My Eyes is awesome!), duchesscarml, Codith, yuyin, Yana5, Anonymous (who   
reviewed four times and is either really enthusiastic or accidently did it),   
Jazzylady (you'll find out soon why Harry is the "one"), Inaya, mydracomalfoy,   
My Slytherin Mind, platybear, Hoshiko-Malfoy, willow-nymph, Beth Weasley,   
SailorBaby16, Morrisa Lilith Raine, Agnei Smith (Oh, don't worry; there will be   
hot sex), Supah Nova, Snapdragongrrl, monalisa, Benjis VIP, lucinda night,   
Felton's Gal, driven to insanity, and everyone else who reviewed.  
  
This chapter is dedicated to those who emailed me telling me (in prettier words)   
to get off my lazy arse and get this chapter out. My sincere apologies for   
waiting so long. Do you guys still love me?  
  
Second Sight  
  
Chapter 4---Rub-a-Dub-Dub! (Woo, woo! It's a steamy chapter!!!)  
  
Naked, pale, flawless flesh. Don't drool, Harry commanded of himself as he averted his eyes from the beauty that was Draco's body. The blond smirked; he knew he was hot and was proud of it.   
  
"Having trouble there, Harry?" The black haired boy shook his head, backing away as Draco walked towards him...still naked! Draco reached for Harry's belt, intending to undo it for the Gryffindor, but his hand was smacked away. Harry started to undress himself, turning away from the other boy. Draco merely shrugged and guided his underwear (black silk!) down his legs and into his pile of clothes.   
  
"Look, I know that I'm everyone's wet dream, but you're going to have to get used to this until we find a solution. So drop your pants and get in the stall." Draco went into his own stall while Harry blushed and did as he was told.   
  
As soon as the hot water hit him, Draco let out a moan of contentment. There really is nothing like a steamy shower, he thought. Harry bit his lip as Draco's moans carried over to his stall. Looking down, he willed his erection away, but it could not be coaxed from it's hard state.   
  
Cold shower it is then, Harry thought and adjusted the water temperature accordingly. At the onslaught of freezing water, he yelped, which was mirrored by Draco.   
  
"I can feel that, you know." And it felt really weird. He could feel hot water hitting his skin as he got the impression of cold water in his mind.   
  
"Sorry." A moment's pause.  
  
"Then put it on a setting that isn't antarctic, Potter."  
  
"I can't." Draco was about to ask why, but he received a large wave of lust tinged with embarrassment.   
  
"Oh, well, it's okay," Draco called over the thin partition. "You can do it. I don't mind."  
  
"No, it's too weird." Harry leaned on the part, out of the water, humiliated with this situation.  
  
"The way I figure is that you might not be able to do this for a while if you can't get over yourself. It might be forever, so you may as well have a wank."   
  
Harry's mental barriers did nothing to keep the desire away from Draco's mind. It was too strong. "Just relax and get to it; for my benefit as much as yours."   
  
Closing his eyes tightly, Harry tried to imagine himself elsewhere as he reached for his erection. The touch was oh, so very soothing. He barely kept himself from moaning as his right hand stroked, slowly at first, then faster as he came closer to climax.   
  
"Oh, God." Draco gasped at the feelings that he received. It was the most erotic and exquisite torture he'd ever experienced. He rested his forehead on the partition, imagining that he could feel Harry's heat radiating through it. "I can feel you," he said, loud enough for the other boy to hear. "How hard you are." He moaned as he felt Harry go over the edge from his words, crying out his release. Draco followed, his climax causing him to collapse in his stall.   
  
Upon hearing Draco hit the floor, Harry momentarily forgot his state of undress (and the fact that he hadn't cleaned the semen off of his stomach) and rushed into Draco's stall. He knelt down to inspect the other boy, whose pulse was wild and erratic. "Are you okay?" Harry was confused when Draco opened his eyes and smiled at him adoringly.  
  
"Mmmm," was all the blond said, lazily stroking the arm Harry had placed around his waist.   
  
"What happened?" Draco blinked up at Harry.  
  
"I just had the best shag of my life and you didn't even touch me. You've got talent, Harry." Blushing (for about the hundredth time that day), he helped the empath to his feet, leading him to the dressing area. "I guess that was a real mind-fuck," Draco mused aloud.   
  
"I'm going to go clean myself off." Harry had resigned himself to immodesty. After you jerk-off next to a person who can feel everything you're feeling, there's nothing more to be embarrassed about.

"Harry, wake up." Draco sighed as Harry just rolled onto his arm, trapping it there. Judging by the happiness rolling off of The Boy Who Lived, he was by no means reliving some nightmare from the war. "Harry Potter," he half sang, one of the habits he had whilst being impatient. Leaning in with a devilish smirk, Draco placed his lips upon Harry's in an innocent kiss (or so Draco told himself so that he could justify his taking advantage of a sleeping boy). Draco's plan   
didn't reach it's goal of waking the Gryffindor, but Draco couldn't complain. He moaned into Harry's lips as the boy kissed back, bringing his arms around the Slytherin, One hand slipped lower, cupping the empath's arse.   
  
Draco's eyes rolled up and closed. God, that was a heavenly feeling. Up until now, Draco had never known that kisses could be so...wonderful, passionate, sweet, promising, loving, desperate, flawless. Something clicked inside of Draco; it was that one missing piece of his soul  
  
And then his soul broke.   
  
Harry wrenched his lips from Draco's, pushing the blond off the bed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Quickly, the Slytherin regained his grace and composure, as only a Malfoy could.   
"Why," he explained, giving his most charming and breath-taking grin,"I only wish to wake the sleeping prince with a kiss. Isn't that how it always works?"   
  
"Wake me?" Harry was incredulous. "Waking me would entail a shake of my shoulder, a slap to the face, or even a shove off the the bed. What kind of person molests another person to wake him up?"  
  
"Hey, you were the one who grabbed my arse and shoved your tongue down my throat. How could I resist? 'Specially with those two going at it and my poor mind being influenced. I'm lucky I could control myself or else I'd of jumped the closest person, being you, Weasley, or Longbottom. If it were either of either of the latter, I would have jumped off of the Astronomy Tower, by the way." Harry blinked; he was still sleepy and didn't fully comprehend what the   
blond was saying.   
  
"Who's going at it?"  
  
Draco pouted. "Hmph. I would think you would care more about my suicidal thoughts than Finnigan and Dean shagging. Like rabbits, I might add."   
  
"I don't hear anything, though. What makes you think they're..."  
  
"Fucking?" Harry turned a cute shade of pink at Draco's plebeian language.   
  
"Making love," he corrected quietly. "Dean and Seamus have been best friends for six years. If they're doing anything, they're making love.   
  
Rolling his eyes, Draco repeated Harry. "Fine. They're 'making love'." He made finger quotes around the phrase, speaking condescendingly while rolling his eyes. "And I know they're 'making love' because I can feel it. They're smart enough to use a silencing spell. Which all comes back to why I woke you up in the first place, which was to get out of this room. I have a raging hard-on and want to walk it off. I'd rather not come while 'listening' to those two."  
  
"You had no problem getting off to me."  
  
Draco leered. "I wouldn't have a problem getting off on you, either.  
  
"Stop that."  
  
"Stop what?" Draco blinked; he thought they were having fun.  
  
"I never know if you're joking or..." Harry looked away, letting the implications of his unfinished sentence hang in the air. Draco didn't know either; he was cursed with empathy and he couldn't even figure out his own feelings. The tension between the two boys was almost tangible at that moment.  
  
"Come on." Getting up, Draco avoided Harry's unwavering gaze, preferring to put on his robe instead. Following his example, Harry threw his on as well, and trailed behind the blond.   
  
As he led the way, Draco looked over his shoulder every minute to make sure the other was there. It was silly; he could mentally feel Harry, but the visual knowledge was reassuring. His feet seemed to lead him along as he tried to pick apart his emotions. Did he really feel attracted to Harry, or was this yet another side effect of his empathy?   
  
He was interrupted when Harry pulled on his sleeve. Turning, he opened his mouth, only to have it covered by the Gryffindor--not in the good way involving lips on lips, but the way of hand on mouth. Harry was trying to communicate silently with him, when he picked up on it; lust, anger, and hope all at once. Peering around the corner, Draco and Harry both gasped at the scene in front of them; one gasp of shock and one gasp of arousal.   
  
I just can't escape it, Draco thought as he watched his Potions professor slam his Defense professor against the wall and grind into the red head. The blond's moan was muffled by Harry's hand, which Draco promptly started licking and suckling, drawing a finger into his mouth. Echoing Draco, Harry let out a moan of his own and let his eyes close briefly before snapping them back open and pulling his hand away.   
  
"No," he reprimanded sharply in a whisper, smacking away the hands that tried to   
pull him back to the blond. Growling, Harry stomped off, heading back to Gryffindor tower. Having no choice but to follow, Draco lagged behind a few steps, itching to touch the raven haired boy in front of him. When they were greeted by the crimson and gold of the Common Room, Harry turned around and shoved Draco down into a chair with such force that the chair skidded back, the sound resonating throughout the almost empty room.   
  
"I'm not just something you can hump whenever you get randy!" Harry was almost yelling. "If you want to get into my pants, you'll do it by wooing me, not just kissing me when you damn well feel like it. I want dinner and a movie first. Merlin, I'm not a slut!"   
  
"Harry-" Draco attempted to interrupt, only to be silenced by Harry.  
  
"Don't you 'Harry' me, mister!" He emphasized his words by extending his index finger and waggling it at the empath.  
  
"Harry," Draco groaned, his hands going to cradle his head.  
  
"And don't bother telling me you have so little control of your-" Harry's tirade ceased when he heard the thump Draco's body made when it hit the floor. His emotions immediately switched polarities as he kneeled over the blond's body.

"Draco, are you okay?" He shook him by the shoulders, then his hands went to stroke his cheek softly. Eyelids fluttering open, Draco came to with a groan, grabbing Harry's hand with both of his and holding them over his heart. "I'm so sorry, Draco," the Gryffindor apologized.   
  
"Well, I guess we know what happens when we don't touch for a while. Good to know for future reference, eh?" Slowly, Draco stood up, helped by Harry who was now treating him as if he would break.   
  
"Yes, but we've gone longer without touching before now."  
  
"Well, maybe it had something to do with you being angry with me."  
  
"Hmm, maybe."

They started up the stairs to the boys' dorms, Harry's arms around Draco, although the empath had sufficiently recovered.   
  
"You were right," said Draco, placing his hand on Harry's arm as he reached out to open the door.   
  
"Pardon?" Harry blinked, stunned. Those words never (never ever ever) came out of Draco Malfoy's mouth.   
  
Draco clenched his teeth, not wanting to repeat that horrid phrase. "You. Were. Right." He moved on quickly. "Tomorrow is saturday. It's also a Hogsmeade weekend. We can go out for dinner, then have drinks at The Three Broomsticks afterwards."  
  
Harry grinned mischieviously. "Are you asking me or telling me?"   
  
"I'm telling you, of course," Draco said, putting on his most aristocratic face.  
  
"Oh, I see. Well, I can't resist an order."  
  
"Yes, especially from your superiors. Now, strip!" Draco barked. Harry laughed (at Draco, not with him). Shaking his head, the Gryffindor went into his dorm and plopped down onto his bed. Draco followed, only he went to his cot.   
  
"Just so you know, Malfoy, I don't put out until at least the third date. And that's if you're lucky." Draco groaned and turned away from the teasing boy.  
  
In the bed across from Harry's, although the curtains were drawn, Ron Weasley was wide awake, and had heard the whole thing. The redhead thought he might actually vomit. When he slept again that night, he had nightmares of little blond-haired children with thick, round black glasses and demonic smiles upon their faces.   
  
To Be Continued...  
  
So, finally chapter four is done, after months of...not being done. I'm so sorry to everyone who was waiting for this, but these past few months were the worst of my school career. Ironically, this chapter seems a bit rushed to me, especially the transition from the shower scene. Chapter five should be out in a few weeks, since it's really just filler chapter until the horrible Ministry of Magic incident of Chapter Six! (ooooh, foreshadowing!)  
  
Soundtrack: "Relax" (Frankie Goes to Hollywood), Audioslave, Pretty Hate   
  
Machine (Nine Inch Nails), Chuck E. Cheese music (I work there and wrote on my   
  
shift), Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd), Room on Fire (The Strokes), Is This It?   
  
(The Strokes), "Cold Hard Bitch" (Jet)  
  
A/N: I would have been more descriptive with the masturbation, but ff.net   
  
wouldn't approve. :( Sorry


	6. Draco, the Humanitarian

Second Sight

By

FerretMalfoy

FM: So I'm sorry about not updating in six months, but after summer school and starting a new job and starting my senior year things have been a bit hectic. But, I really like the way this chapter turned out, and I hope you do too.

This chapter is dedicated to all of my fans who make me want to see this fic through. However, this is especially dedicated to GOLDENSONG, my first ever 100th reviewer!

Chapter Five: Draco, the Humanitarian

_Things are already awkward and uncomfortable_, Harry thought as he stared at the flowers and candy that Draco was offering. He blinked rapidly before saying, "You do know I'm a _guy_ right?"

Smirking, the blond looked Harry up and down, making the Gryffindor squirm. "I never would have known," he replied bitingly. Clenching his teeth, Harry snatched the flowers violently, stray petals drifting to the floor. He went over to the cabinet where he and his dorm mates kept the stuff they might one day need, but have never found use for, and pulled out a dusty vase. Hastily, he muttered the spells to fill the vase with water and to cut the flower stems. Shivering, Draco looked over to Harry's, and now his own, bedside table and noticed that his wand still lay there. Wandless magic still gave Draco the creeps, even though Harry didn't realize how rare and dangerous it was.

Plopping the flowers into the water unceremoniously, Harry turned around to find Draco gazing at him in a way that reminded him why they were going through with this. Draco smiled as he felt the warmth flowing off of Harry, realizing with a jolt that they were both in this for the tender feelings and not the sexual ones. _Damn this empathy, _he thought with no real malice_, It's making me all...mushy inside._

"So," Harry began, luring Draco from his thoughts. "What are our plans for the evening?"

"Dinner at Madame D'Orniere's, then I shall tolerate your dearest friends in a round at the Three Broomsticks, which is what I consider the nicest thing I could ever do for you. After that, who knows? Maybe I'll get some." Harry sharply swatted Draco on the shoulder, hesitating to take his hand away from the other boy.

"I'm not that kind of girl, Malfoy."

"You will be when I'm through with you, Potter," Draco replied, smirking in a way that made Harry's knees shake and heart beat faster. Closing his eyes briefly, Harry put up his mental shields so that Draco couldn't "hear" his naughty thoughts. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"Let's go," Harry breathed, brushing past the Slytherin and exiting the dorm. Draco smiled goofily in that direction, striding out after the black haired boy.

"Oh, yeah. He wants me." Draco whispered this assurance to himself as he began to catch up.

The sign on the door read "No students admitted after 10p." Harry really didn't expect the restaurant that Draco had picked to be so...lascivioius. Noticing a pole in each corner of the room, Harry figured that they probably weren't for firemen to slide down. Paintings with Roman numerals and letters covered the walls, each one depicting its own lewd image, often involving more than two people. The Gryffindor thought that he would blush forever.

"Bonjour, bonjour!" A petite brunette stepped out from behind a red curtain to greet the boys. Her face lit as she took them in. "Draco, mon cher, 'ow good it is to see you again! 'Ow 'ave you been?" The French woman took his face in both hands and kissed either cheek and his lips, lingering long enough to make Harry growl. Which rather surprised all three of them. "And who is ton ami, mon cher?"

"Comme çi, comme ça, Madame. Il s'appel Harry et il est mon amoureux. Il est trés mignon, non?" Glaring at the blond, Harry felt left out not understanding the conversation.

"Oui, 'e is very cute, but I am afraid zat we are being rude to 'im. I am Madame d'Orniere and I am a friend of ze famille of Malfoy. It is a pleasure to meet you, 'Arry Pottair." Harry, taken by her charm and accent, forgot the fact that this woman had dared to kiss Draco in front of her. Taking her proffered hand, he kissed it gently.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Madame." Draco was quite sure that the only time that Delphine d'Orniere had blushed in her lifetime was when the Boy Who Lived kissed her hand.

"Your Monsieur Potter is quite charmant," she addressed Draco, who agreed with a nod, before he pulled Harry towards him, throwning an arm around his shoulders.

"Enough of zis standing around. What can I do for you, mon canard?" Draco colored.

"For starters, you could never call me that again. Then, you can seat Harry and me. Is the Caligula room empty?" Madame d'Orniere only raised an eyebrow at him and smirked knowingly before nodding and leading them down a large corridor. She left them in a room which had a floor covered in large fluffy pillows and walls covered in the most detailed and libidinous paintings that Harry had _ever_ seen.

Madame d'Orniere left them at the doorway, winking at Draco. "Enjoi, mes petits."

Harry gulped as the heavy red curtain to the room closed behind him. "Draco, what is this place?"

Shrugging with nonchalance, the empath replied, "It's just a restaurant."

Harry crossed his arms with a look of disbelief. "Yes, just a sex-themed restaurant with murals of orgies on the walls." He pointed to one corner of the room. "The participants in that one aren't all human."

"Well, some people find horses very attractive." They both blanched at the same time, which broke the tension between the two. Harry plopped down on a pillow, looking up at the other boy.

"Couldn't you have at least taken me to a normal restaurant? Why this...this den of iniquity?"

Sitting down across from him, Draco stretched out his legs.

"Where else could you have this much privacy? I didn't want anyone ruining our evening by staring at the Boy Who Lived. I'd rather stare at Harry." Unexpectedly, Draco was pinned to the ground and covered with Harry.

Harry sighed and raised his head to look into Draco's eyes. He was so overwhlemed that he let his mental blocks down. Draco felt tears well up as a result of this onslaught of emotion. "Thank you," was all Harry said, but Draco understood. "I didn't hurt you with my thoughts, did I?" he asked when he noticed the tears.

"No, I'm fine." Harry looked dubious, but went to take his place at the Japanese style table, kneeling. Draco could feel the confusion from the boy, who couldn't find a menu. The way the Gryffindor bit his lip so cutely made Draco smile like a fool. He caught himself before his date saw this, however. He cleared his throat. "When we're ready to eat, we tap our wands on the table." Harry took his out and did so, eyes lighting up when all of his favorite foods popped up.

"How did you know what I liked?"

"Well, we were enemies for the majority of the past seven years. I take the saying 'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer' to heart. I had to learn everything about you so I could one day use your weaknesses against you." Harry rolled his eyes at the end of Draco's explanation.

"Yeah, my affinity for mashed potatoes is my weakest point. Ole' Voldie could've taken all the potatoes away and held them for ransom. I would have traded my life for them."

"Exactly," replied Draco, stonefaced.

"And it wasn't because you've been secretly in love with me all of these years and watched me every second you could?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Potter. It was business, that's all." Sending him a small, playful grin, Harry gestured for Draco to sit at the table as well. He did so, giving up on his serious facade. The rest of the dinner passed by with pleasant conversation, and when dessert was served, Draco managed to get Harry to feed him. Of course, Harry couldn't resist smearing some of the mousse au chocolat on Draco's face, which resulted in a miniature food fight.

Later, after they had magically cleaned each other off, they made their way to the exit cheerily. Draco stopped midway to the door, his head tilting in one direction as if listening to something.

"What is it?" Harry asked, looking at the closed door of the room they had stopped at. Draco started to laugh, then continued walking towards the exit, lacing his arm with Harry's.

"The men in the Constantine Room just happen to be our two favorite professors."

"You mean-" Draco nodded.

"Severus is projecting like mad! His thoughts are along the lines of 'I can't believe I'm on a date like a banal Hufflepuff girl.' And Weasley was thinking 'I just want to get out of here and fuck him senseless.'" Harry laughed along with the empath.

"So they're both miserable because they think the other wants this, when really they're wasting valuable shagging opportunities."

"Exactly."

"Mm. I almost feel sorry for them." Harry wrapped his light robe around him and prepared to meet the cool evening air. Draco went to the counter where one of Madame d'Orniere's employees took his payment. They left together, once again arm in arm.

"Draco?" Harry said, looking at the other boy as they made their way to the Three Broomsticks. He couldn't help but admire Draco's profile under the soft street lights. It cast an ethereal halo on him.

"Hmm?"

"In the restaurant, didn't it hurt when you overheard Snape and Bill?" Draco thought about this.

"Not at all...and you weren't even touching me!" Harry nodded when Draco figured out exactly what he was talking about. "This is fantastic! We can separate with several people around!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed halfheartedly, the empath ironically not noticing that Harry didn't share his joy.

Draco practically skipped to the pub.

"Malfoys do not skip," Draco said glumly into his Butter Beer. Harry and his friends ignored him in favor of laughing. The gang went to a new topic, discussing Oliver Wood's trade to the Chudley Cannons, for which Draco was glad. As he sat silently and watched the trio, he looked around at the other patrons. Some of them were smiling genuinely and some were smiling falsely. Some were drinking their troubles away at the bar and some were just carousing with their mates to celebrate the weekend. It was all a little overwhelming.

Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled it off the table and into his lap, where he held it with both hands. Instantly, he felt his anxiety and the voices of the others in the bar leave his head. Harry smiled at him briefly before turning back to his friends. Zoning out, Draco concentrated on a boy seated at a booth, testing his power. For a second he felt everyone's thoughts trying to push into his head, but soon he could only hear one train of thought.

_Oh god. He just touched my hand. I wonder if he likes me. No, no, how could he? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor? Yeah, right. I would be murdered in my sleep. _

Draco couldn't see the boy very well, but he was certain that he wasn't a Slytherin. Which made him a Gryffindor, and for some reason, Draco was still concerned about the boy. And who was the Slytherin that was in the company of the Gryffindor. He leaned to his right to get a better view, only to bump into Harry, causing the other boy to spill his Butter Beer.

"Draco!" Harry squeaked. The empath sheepishly looked at him.

"Sorry," he grumbled, drawing out his wand to clean off his date. Hermione and Ron were immediately on the defensive as his wand pointed at their friend, and he rolled his eyes. "Like I would hurt him after I spent so much on dinner. _Really_."

"Why did you do that?"

"I was concentrating on reading only one person's thoughts. And it worked!" Again, Harry didn't share his joy. "Harry, what's wrong?" Draco immediately called him on his reluctance to be happy for him. "You've been like this every time I've been able to modify my power."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he denied. Draco didn't press the issue.

"Anyway, do any of you know who that Gryffindor is in the corner booth?" All three squinted at the boy and turned to each other.

"Looks like Neville," Ron said. "But, who's he with?" Harry shrugged; he could hardly tell that Neville was over there, much less anyone who he didn't share a room with for the past seven years.

Surprised, Hermione answered. "Blaise Zabini." The trio looked at each other and blinked.

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed. "I can blink, too. Stop doing that exclusive 'let's give each other similar looks because we can read each others' minds' thing!" Draco crossed his arms over his chest and proceded to pout. He did this quite well.

"Aww, poor wittle Drakey." Harry pinched his cheek and leaned in to kiss it better. Draco smirked and turned his head, causing Harry's lips to meet his own. Harry pulled back, blushing as he looked around to see if anyone had seen them. Draco slid out of the booth, pulling a protesting Harry with him, and strode over to Blaise and Neville.

"Blaise. Longbottom," he acknowledged, sitting down at the table uninvited. The Italian boy raised an eyebrow at Draco.

"Good evening, Draco. May we help you?" Obviously (to Draco), the other Slytherin was more annoyed than he let off. _Ooh, fun, _Draco thought.

"Nope. Just coming to chat with my best friend and his boyfriend. Which I didn't know about. You know, Blaise, I'm slightly insulted." Harry, who'd been observing this quietly, let his mouth hang agape, and looked from Neville to Blaise, then repeated the process.

"B-boyfriend?" Neville stuttered.

"Oh, then you two aren't...?" He really was having a hard time keeping from giggling. Blaise only shook his head in denial. "Pity." He stood next to Harry. "Well, we must be leaving. Hermione and Ron are waiting for us."

"What was that all about?" Looking over at his companion, Draco could see the crease in his eyebrows from thinking too much. They were walking back to Hogwarts and had fallen behind Harry's friends to have some private time to unwind from their date.

"Nothing really. Just playing matchmaker."

Harry blatantly stared at him. "Since when does Draco Malfoy do good deeds?"

The blond let out a sigh. "All of the time. Like...like when I, um played matchmaker to Longbottom and Blaise." Harry rolled his eyes, then moved closer to put his arm around the empath's waist. "What are you thinking?"

"A million ways to say no to you when we get back to my dorm and you want to crawl into my bed."

Draco's heart started beating faster as he thought of the implications. "You think that much of yourself?" Harry just snorted.

Harry said the password to his dorm and the boys followed in as the door swung open. After Harry gave Draco the goodnight kiss he insisted upon (which turned into ten goodnight kisses), they changed into their night clothes and hopped in their bed and cot.

"Finnegan and Thomas are at it again." Harry, who was happily dozing off with thoughts of Draco, opened his eyes.

"I didn't need to know that, Drake." The nickname distracted Draco from the mating that was going on across the room.

"Drake?" He asked, wanting to get an explanation out of the sleepy Gryffindor.

"Boyfriends should have nicknames for each other," Harry mumbled. "I figured that you wouldn't take to snuggle bunny." Draco felt ecstatic when Harry called him his boyfriend. "Poor Ron," he added out of nowhere. "All of his roommates have a boyfriend except him." Draco snickered, moving over to get closer to his boyfriend (!).

"Why do you get so defensive about my empathy?" Draco asked, figuring that now would be the only time to get an answer out of him. Harry's eyes popped open once again, and he looked into Draco's eyes. He was wide awake.

"Because," he started, "If you get strong enough, you won't need me. And I like this."

"I won't drop you if this wears off, you know?" His voice had lowered so much with this admission that Harry could barely hear him.

"No. I didn't know." Harry scooted over in his bed and let go of Draco's hand. He looked as if he was about to go to sleep, and Draco suddenly felt the need to cry. "Well, are you coming?" Draco didn't have to be asked twice, and he crawled into the bed immediately. Not knowing his limits, he stayed on the space that Harry had provided, not touching him in anyway. "I don't have a disease, you know."

And with that, Harry snuggled up to his side, laying a leg across Draco's and pillowing his head on the empath's chest.

_Malfoys don't snuggle_, was Draco's last thought as he drifted off. He only held the Gryffindor tighter.

TBC...

FM: So, I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I already have it mapped out and you guys should expect some frowny faces. I've got the school musical and the competition play the next few months, so I'll be drained from that and applying to schools (cross your fingers for U of William and Mary). I'll be lucky to write a paragraph in that time.

By the way: Draco says "So, so, madame. His name is Harry and he is my lover. He is very cute, no?"

_Soundtrack: _AFI _Sing the Sorrow, _Muse _Ablsolution, _everything by The Strokes, My Chemical Romance _Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge_


	7. Revelations and Draco 'I'm not a bloody ...

Second Sight

By

FerretMalfoy

FM: Hello, all. I would like to start this chapter by dedicating it to chose loyal reviewers who kept telling me to get this chapter up NOW! I was suddenly hit with inspiration yesterday, so thank the muse of writing. Anywho, I lost my reviewers list, so I'm sorry for not thanking you guys individually. Without further ado...

Chapter Six

Revelations and Draco "I'm not a bloody damsel in distress" Malfoy

"That's disgusting." Harry refused to turn around and glare at Ron for that comment; he was too busy kissing his boyfriend--only a peck on the side of Draco's mouth (Harry wouldn't feel comfortable doing much more in public). The redhead turned to Seamus and said, "They've been doing this all day."

Seamus only grinned and watched the two smile at each other as if no one else was around. "Leave 'em alone. It's cute." Dean nodded in silent agreement from his spot at Seamus' side.

They sat at dinner in the Great Hall, most Gryffindors ignoring the two, but all other houses staring at them. Draco and Harry sat leaning on each other, oblivious to their surroundings. It had been a week since their first date and they were in bliss, much to the irritation of their friends. To get everyone off their backs, Harry only had to mention that Ron and Hermione had acted exactly the same when that had first gotten together.

Ron had taken to eatching out for the blond boy when he and Harry began to test the boundaries of their bond. He complained about it nonstop, but no one bothered to point that Ron had volunteered for the job.

"'Mione said she wanted to show me something in the library," Harry said to his friends. Draco narrowed his eyes; the girl had been conspicuously absent from the group for the past few days, and had taken to avoiding the empath. _Little tart wants my boyfriend. _He mentally growled, startling Harry, who promptly rolled his eyes and leaned in to whisper to Draco. "Not that I'm not flattered that you're jealous, but Hermione _definitely_ doesn't like me like that."

"And what's wrong with you, then? Is my boyfriend not good enough fot the mud-" Every Gryffindor around him glared before he could even sat the derogatory word. "Ahem."

The raven haired boy stood, amused. "I'm off. See you in a few." He gave Draco a kiss on the cheek and bounced out of the Great Hall. Draco winced as he adjusted to the higher level of emotions he could feel.

"So," Ron said, nudging the empath. "How do you think the Falcons are shaping up this season?" Quidditch was the only safe topic between the two; as it turned out, Draco was a Cannons fan.

"They're quite good, actually. Ever since they got a hold of Pavlova. Russia's crazy for-"

A boom resounded throughout the dining hall.

Draco hated to be interrupted. He rolled his eyes, then looked up to see who had dramatically slammed the doors of the Great Hall wide open.

Aurors, at least a dozen of them, marched into the room. When they stopped, they stood emotionless and still, reminding Draco of the time when he was six and his mother took him to the Muggle palace in London. Behind the asymmetrical rows of aurors emerged the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge.

"I, Cornelius Fudge, on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, hereby arrest Draco Agamemnon Malfoy, Empath and Threat to Society."

Harry peeked around the shelves and into the small niche Hermione had tucked herself into. His best friend was currently reading excitedly, as only she could do. As her eyes scrolled down the page, the book got closer to her face until it eventually bumped her nose. Then, she would start, blink at the book, and begin the process all over again.

With all the stealth he could muster, Harry crept soundlessly toward his friend, and poked her in either side. And was promptly rewarded with a squeal and a slap to the face.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed when she realized who she had hit. "Harry, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, 'Mione." Harry sat down in the seat next to hers, cupping his face. "Just hope it doesn't leave a mark. You'll have a mad empath on you."

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"Well, he's been acting really posessive during the past few days." Hermione let out a pondering 'hmmm' and nodded.

"Yes, well, that would go along with what I've found out about his empathy." Harry blinked, then grabbed her arm.

"Do you mean-?"

"If you're asking me if I know what caused this, then no. If you're asking if I cure, then maybe. If you're asking if I know why you're the only one that can help Draco, then yes."

"Well?" Harry asked expectantly after Hermione didn't continue. "Start from the beginning."

"A very good place to start." At Harry's look, Hermione had the decency to look apologetic. "Sorry. I'll keep the Muggle musical references to a minimum. Anyway, I was rather curious-"

"Surprise, surprise." Hermione glared at Harry's murmur.

"As I was saying: I tried researching empathy, but since it's so rare, only two texts exist about it. Imagine how peeved I was when it all turned out to be theory and no first-hand accounts."

When Hermione paused to take a breath, the raven haired boy took the opportunity to speak up. "I imagine because of the immense pain empaths suffer at all times that leads up to their rapid deaths."

"I'm not really appreciating these interjections, Harry."

He tried his hardest to look contrite. "Yes, Professor Granger." She only shook her head disapprovingly and continued.

"So, after I read those two, I found a book all about those who have survived similar accidents with misplaced powers. At first I thought there was no common thread, but as I thought about it, I realized that..." Hermione bit her lip.

"What?" Harry demanded.

"I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, or how you'll take it, but all of these cases involved at least one party who had descended from a species that mates for life."

Harry blinked. "What are you trying to tell me, Herm?"

"You really are dense, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "I'd offended if it wasn't so true."

"I don't think you realize the gravity of the situation. After I figured this out, I looked up Malfoy's lineage. Not only is he one quarter Veel on his dad's side, but one sixteenth on his mum's."

"Merlin, Hermione, if you don't get to a point-"

"Draco's part Veela, Harry! And you're his mate." Harry's jaw hit the ground.

"H-how, what..." He shook his head to snap himself out of it. "Why isn't he all weird and oozing Veela charm?" Harry gesticulated with his hands to create an image of what he was trying to say.

"I'm purely hypothesizing, but since he's not half Veela, and the Veela gene tends to be recessive, Draco would have never matured as a Veela and still will never develop all Veela features. But, the accident triggered anything in his body that would help him survive the empathy. It triggered his Veela instinct because Veela can draw power from their mates. That's why you are the only one who can help him. That's why his brain hasn't imploded. In all other recorded instances, the survivors had found their mates beforehand." Hermione stopped her lecture, knowing her friend must be feeling confused. She put her hand over Harry's. "If you're curious, you were mates long before this ever happened. I think sucbonciously you were both aware. That's why you've never been able to stay away from each other. How are you feeling, Love?"

Harry didn't know. He was elated to know the reason, but at the same time he found out he was stuck with a person for life with very little choice about it. Except...he did have a choice. He could leave Draco to die. "I kind of feel scared. Like I won't live up to his Veela expectations. What happens if I don't fall in love with him? Then again, it's nice to know that I'll have someone to love and to be loved by for the rest of my life. It's reassuring and permanent."

"Harry, I think you've already started falling for him."

"Really? Herm, we've only been on one date."

"And you're sharing your bed with him-" She raised her hand to prevent him from clarifying her statement. "Yes, I know, out of necessity and 'nothing's happened', but he's the first person you've let get near you romantically, since, well...actually, ever."

"You're right, 'Mione," he conceded.

"I always am." They both laughed at this. Harry reached over to hug Hermione tightly.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Get strangled by Devil's Snare, I imagine."

Harry let her go, saying, "I really should go find my pet veela. He should have been here by now."

"Knowing him and ron, they're arguing over Puddlemere or some other Quidditch nonsense."

Harry started to leave, only to pause and turn back around. He watched his friend arrange her books neatly for a few moments. "Herm?"

"Yes, Harry?" she answered, not looking up from putting her books into her bag.

"You said you might have a cure. What is it?" By the blush that rose onto Hermione's face, Harry could tell the answer was probably going to be uncomfortable. He didn't find out the answer, however.

A bolt of pain caused Harry to grip his head. The bushy haired girl ran over to his side, steadying him. "Harry, what's wrong? You two have only been apart for about twenty minutes."

"No, it's not that. Something's wrong." Holding himself up, Harry bolted to the exit, Hermione hesitating for a millisecond before breaking into an equal pace. She ignored the calls of Madame Pince to 'stop horseplaying around'.

Draco felt overwhelmed as he couldn't concentrate on keeping others' thoughts repressed. He need Harry, but Harry wasn't around. Harry was metres away, having a cozy little chat with That Muggle-Born Bitch. He closed his eyes and took short, shallow breaths as he felt a panic attack coming on. _Oh, god. I'm all alone. I'm going to Azkaban. I'm alone._

He peeked out of one eye. He wasn't alone. Four people in the hall had stood up and were now making their ways toward him. Severus wasn't a surprise. He was, after all, Draco's godfather and mentor. His sharp, calculated movements and menacing stare conveyed 'If you incompetant morons want to get to him, you'll have to grow balls and get through me.' A few of the aurors actually looked terrifyed of the fast approaching man, but many of them were only a few years out of Hogwarts and had abysmal Potions NEWTS.

"You poncy gits'll have to get through me as well." Draco's eyebrows went up, jaws dropped, and Severus rolled his eyes. Weasley's lack of tact was unbelievable. The ginger haired boy stepped in front of Draco, crossing his arms and standing shoulder to shoulder with Severus.

Two others came to stand behind Draco, surrounding him in a human defensive shield. Blaise was as unsurprising as Severus, but the person who held his hand was. Neville Longbottom had his wand in one hand and Blaise's hand in the other as he stared defiantly at the aurors.

Fudge waved his hand nonchalantly. Eight aurors went forward to grab either side of the men surrounding Draco.

"That didn't quite work out the way I wanted it to," Ron said to Snape, who was struggling to get free.

"The fuck I can't!" Harry yelled at the auror who had barred his entrance from the Great Hall. The man was thrown back by the magic Harry unleashed, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

He took out his wand and opened the doors, bursting in and taking the attention away from his boyfriend. A raw jolt of power threw all of the aurors away from his friends. He ran to Draco, taking him into his arms. Draco sighed as he felt relief from Harry's touch.

Fudge and his minions stared, mouth agape, at the development they hadn't been aware of.

Silently communicating, Dumbledore and Hermione nodded at each other. They made their way to the grouping.

"I demand, Albus, that you call your boy off of this criminal!" The headmaster gave the man a long stare, on that Harry never wanted to be the victim of.

"And what, pray tell, is the crime?"

"Well...empathy. It's illegal, you know."

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised at this piece of information. "Since when?"

Fudge pulled at his collar. "Tuesday."

"I see." He turned to Harry and Draco, who were watching the older men with caution. "Mister Malfoy, I think it would be best, for now, if you let the minister take you into custody."

"That's not going to happen," Harry confirmed. Fudge waved his hand and Harry raised his wand. "Call your fucking attack dogs off."

"Harry," Hermione warned, "Don't let this be uncivilized on your behalf. You can fight the bastard publicly and with words later." The Boy Who Lived lowered his right hand, still firmly clasping Draco's hand in his left.

"Fine. But I'm not letting him go." Immediately, six aurors seized either boy, trying to pull them apart.

"Let go, Harry." The demand came from Dumbledore, who suddenly looked grim and old. "You will not be able to do anything for him if you're arrested as well."

The bespectacled boy shot the headmaster a look of betrayal, but loosened his grip on Draco's hand. Draco looked as if he would pass out at any second now, his visage pale and clammy. The aurors supported him as they placed the body-bind curse on the blond. Harry had to look away, not able to face his disappointed boyfriend.

He turned to address the minister. "Fudge. You've gone too far before, but never when it came to the people I love. I hope you're prepared for hell, because that's where I'm sending you."

He had killed Voldemort single handedly. Bringing down a rat was nothing. Harry watched as the aurors who carried his boyfriend followed a nervous Minister Fudge.

He prayed to whomever might have been listening that he would get to Draco in time.

TBC

Okay, tell me what you think. I don't think the ending was as dramatic as I wanted it to be originally, but the characters have changed since I first started writing this. On the upside, this chapter is over two thousand words. Sorry for the delay, and I don't know when the next chapter will be out. I've got college stuff (Go UMW Eagles) and work and graduation.

Until Next Time.


	8. In Which Ronald Weasley Comes Up With a

Title: Second Sight

Author: FerretMalfoy

Rating: Eventually a nice, familial R or NC-17.

Notes: Since it's been two years since I last updated this mess that I call Second Sight, my writing style has changed, I have changed where I wanted this fic to go, and now I have distaste for Draco/Harry loving. I hope those of you who really like this fic continue liking it after this chapter, which is huuuge. Thanks for being loyal and waiting so long. I'm sure since I want to wrap this up so that I can be free to write Snarry, it won't be two years until my next update. Enjoy this 3,500+ words chapter.

Summary: Due to a freak accident during Potions, Draco gains the ability of being an Empath. The catch is that he can't handle the power and Harry must help him or he will go insane or even die. Life can be so complicated for my favorite boys. Set during their seventh year.

Chapter Seven

In Which Ronald Weasley Comes Up With a Brilliant Plan to Save the Day!!

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

The name rang through Draco's head like the steady drip of water. He clung to the scarf he had nicked from his boyfriend. It had been under his robes at the time of the arrest, and one of the aurors, quite against policy, had let him keep it (with a well placed anti-hanging charm). The gold and crimson squares were rapidly losing their Harry smell due to Draco's unending stream of tears.

While the ministry had enough sense to place him in isolation, they didn't seem to realize the empath was dying. The constant migraine-like pain increased exponentially every minute he was away from his mate.

It had only been one night and Draco knew he'd be dead in two days.

The first time the aurors had tried to talk to or feed Draco, they were met with a mental explosion that the blond enjoyed sending their way. Only the nice, scarf-giving auror-Shacklebolt, Draco recalled-hadn't been mentally told to fuck off. He realized that the blatant misuse of his power didn't help his case, but at that point he didn't care for anything except making the pain stop. And.

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

Harry tried to flatten his bangs with shaking hands. They wouldn't stay down and he had to go up to the podium in a few minutes and Draco's life depended on his ability to pull this off and-

"Harry." Someone grabbed his hands and pulled them level with his chest. Ron pulled him into a big, gangly hug. "You're going to be fine."

Hermione came up behind him, quietly casting a spell on his hair. "That ought to hold it down for the next thirty minutes. Now, I've taken it upon myself to make up some notecards-"which she thrust in his hands "-with your main points on them. And, I'd hate to say this, but really _use_ the fact that you are the Boy-Who-Lived. Make them cognizant of the fact that they owe you." Harry hesitated before nodding. "Good. Also, work up some tears and make sure that the photographers catch them. Are you ready?" Another nod. "Okay, I'm going to go check and see if everything's ready. Good luck." She strode away briskly.

Ron sighed. "My girlfriend, the ruthless politician. I'm going to marry her one day." He turned to Harry. "Are you sure you don't want Snape up there, mate? He could glare at the Ministry until they release him." The brunette gave a nervous little titter. They walked over to the edge of the platform together as Hermione beckoned them. "Break a leg!"

It seemed not only Hermione could be ruthless. To prevent Harry from letting his nerves get to him, Ron shoved his friend onto the stage three seconds before the gentleman from _The Quibbler_ had finished introducing him. After stumbling, the black haired boy made his way to the podium and cast _sonorous_ on himself.

"I, I would like to begin by thanking Mr. Lovegood and _The Quibbler_ for giving me the opportunity to address the public." Harry squinted down at his (_Hermione's_) note cards, then out at the audience, a thousand faces, it seemed, looking at him expectantly. How could a light be so bright? How could Harry do this? Draco's future depended solely on Harry's speech.

"I have these note cards here." He waved them at the reporters. "But I don't need them. I don't mean to offend the woman who wrote them. They're actually quite nice—well written and all. However, who needs notes to support their argument when Minister Fudge is who he is?" There were a few titters in the audience. "I don't believe I've ever publicly announced my stance on the current administration. It's rubbish. Minister Fudge has done nothing but look out for himself for the length of his career.

"When I was twelve he wrongfully removed a man from his position at Hogwarts. When I was thirteen, he couldn't bother to tell me what was then thought to be the truth about my parents. Where was he when my friends and myself fought Voldemort and his followers? He was denying the new rise of that very man. And kissing Lucius Malfoy's arse. Death Eater money has bought his favor in the past, and to compensate for the disdain of his constituents, he arrests none other than Draco Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater for breaking a law that he made up.

"Draco Malfoy, the great betrayer. The man who single-handedly brought down seven of Voldemort's top Death Eaters, including his own father. And now he's slowly dying because Minster of Magic Fudge has deemed empaths a threat to the magical world.

"The odd thing is that Draco is the one who suffers because of the empathy. Because he has to constantly shield and protect others from his power. Because he cannot process the feelings of so many others."

Harry took this moment to pause, surveying the audience. They were playing right into his hands, judging by the sad, pitying looks.

Kingsley walked down the corridor, making his rounds in the "magical creatures" section of Azkaban. Mostly vampires who could not control their bloodlust and one blackwidow veela. They had anti-hypnosis charms up, of course. He sighed. The Order had seen to it that he was assigned to Azkaban in order to keep watch over the wrongfully imprisioned Draco Malfoy.

He had seen young Harry's anguish at losing his boyfriend...or whatever he was. Kids these days had funny concepts of dating and such. A photograph had been posted in the Quibbler that morning, and Harry had, to put it plainly, looked like shit. It reminded him of that time his girlfriend Alice had dumped him to date that Longbottom bloke. At fifteen, it had seemed like the end of the world.

But these, of course, were more extreme circumstances. A time when their being together really was a matter of life and death. When he had checked on Malfoy this morning, the boy could barely move himself and had his hands clamped over his ears, as if it would stop him from knowing the emotions and thoughts of guards and fellow inmates. He had rambled to himself, whispering in a dialect of emotions which seemed to consist of randomly strung together words.

"Killed...blood...want..." Well, Kingsley could make sense of that at least, considering they were surrounded by vampires.

And now it was noon. He walked to the cell with a tray of food in hand, knowing Malfoy would not eat, but also hoping that he might find some strength. He opened the cell, jangling the keys, and hoped the teenager would be able to string together a sentence or be lucid enough to understand what he said.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy," he said softly, knowing the young man had a constant migraine. As expected, there was no answer. Kingsley went over to the cot, lighting his wand so he could better see the prisoner's face. The eyes were closed, and although the auror wished that it was because Malfoy had finally been able to sleep, he knew that he had passed out.

He reached out to shake the blond, while he made a decision about what to do next. He'd been considering it since the order had called a meeting the night before, and he wondered if he had the balls to carry it out and openly defy the ministry. Possibly lose his position as an auror. But the boy's breathing was erratic at best and his pulse was faint. Kingsley took his hand away from the boy's neck, and looked into the hallway.

No one was around. It was lunch, and the guard for these cells was less than for other prisoners. He could do it. Cleanly. The other prisoners would not talk. The vampires never said anything straight and the veela woman--well, one could not speak with her without being entranced by her pheromones.

An innocent life was certainly worth more than a government job, Kingsley supposed as he scooped the frail Slytherin in his arms. The boy tried to struggle in his pain-induced sleep, letting out words like, "No, no, no touching. Hurts. Wrong." He could not push away from Kingsley, but it motivated the man to move faster to get the empath to Harry.

Harry sat at the dining table of Grimmauld Place, having had taken a brief leave from Hogwarts. It was Saturday anyway.

Across from him sat the ever austere Professor Snape, a bland expression on his face. But Harry knew better. He was doing the exact same thing he knew his professor was doing--trying to seem calm while planning how to break the empath out of Azkaban. Of course, they also had their minds open to each other to share ideas.

In the war, they had fought side by side against Voldemort, and had used their occlumency as non-verbal communication. They of course had a rule about rifling through memories, but it didn't matter. Harry now trusted Snape completely, and his fatherly affection for Draco only served to strengthen their friendly bond.

The rest of their small group sat around the table, Neville and Blaise softly talking to each other at one end, Hermione looking through a giant stack of books on veela mating habits and wizarding laws. Bill Weasley was in the shower--a cold shower if Harry had correctly interpreted the looks he and Snape had been exchanging. The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and got back to thinking, making eye contact with Snape and trying to keep any thoughts of his professors doing sexual things.

"I have an idea," Ron said from the stove, where he was making enough grilled cheese sandwiches to feed a small army. Apparently he had received the "cooking while under duress" gene from his mother. He had already served everyone vegetable soup (Harry hadn't even known that Grimmald Place had food during the school year).

Everyone turned toward the redhead, who, indeed, had the look of one who would have an idea.

"We could turn him into a ferret again and he could bounce right out of Azkaban."

Silence. Hermione snorted, annoyed that she had looked up from her research to hear her boyfriend's silly idea. "Yes, and while we're at it, let's just go ahead and break some more laws. Because either way we'll end up in Azkaban." Ron merely shrugged at her sarcasm, seemingly unwounded.

"Thought it was a good idea," he muttered, as Severus and Harry contemplated Ron's suggestion.

_It's a good concept,_ Snape whispered in Harry's head. It was a creepy feeling.

"Yes," Harry responded aloud, preferring to keep things verbal. Something felt off about having someone other than Draco in his head. "He could have made it out long before now if he had the power to transfigure into his animagus form."

"It is really too bad he doesn't have one," Blaise said, entering the conversation. At the pointed looks from Snape and Harry, Blaise was sorry he'd said anything. It was bad form to make a false statement, and the fact that it was about his best friend could not have made him look more rediculous. And in front of Neville. "And of course," he added, trying to recover, "I jest. Because Draco is an animagus, and what a great animal he is."

Harry and Snape both knew the dark-skinned quiet boy was bluffing, and had no idea what he was talking about.

"Don't be rediculous," added Hermione, who never looked up from her book. "He would have to be registered. Otherwise, it would be..." Apparently it had dawned on her. "Exactly like a Malfoy to not care about the law." Ron came over to the table with his plate of sandwiches and two carafes full of pumpkin juice, as well as a triumphant smile on his face.

"I knew it was a good idea."

"Except for the fact that the dementors have been done away with and there are aurors by Draco's cell at all times." Hermione would not let Ron have this one for some reason. It just meant that he would not put out later when she was trying to get fresh.

"Even then, they wouldn't notice a ferret running out of the cell. If we could send in someone with a lot of clout with the general populace who agreed to _surrender his wand_ at the door, which would obviously mean that he could only do magic any toddler could do, even though really he can do wandless and wordless magics so that Draco could be turned into a ferret and bounced out of Azkaban." Ron then took a hearty bite out of a still hot sandwich, the melted cheese leaving small trails around his mouth.

Neville rolled his eyes. "Gee, Ron, whomever could you be suggesting?" Blaise decided that sarcasm was a very sexy and previously unknown aspect of Neville. Also, the way he said 'whomever' drove him crazy. But pretty much everything about this boy seemed to drive him crazy lately. And it didn't help that they could not seem to catch a moment alone. Stupid best friend in Azkaban.

Blaise knew that they would save Draco. It wasn't even a question since they had the saviors of the wizarding world working on the problem. He was sure his friend wouldn't mind that he wasn't too terribly worried about the blond. After all, they were Slytherin. Draco could understand being selfish more than anyone he knew. Right now, the tall, dark boy was more concerned about the fact that Neville had moved his foot over to Blaise's own. The Gryffindor did not seem to notice that he was rubbing his ankle against the other boy's, his gaze remaining on the scroll in front of him, light brown hair hiding his eyes, face free of any blush or shy smile.

"So, this is Azkaban." The sound of Ron's loud voice interrupted Blaise's contemplation of Neville. The foot rubbing his under the table jerked away, and Neville looked up at his housemate. The redhead had somehow produced a map of the prison and had magically pinned it to the wall. And, where did he get that pointer-thingy which he suddenly slammed onto the map?

"We send Harry in at the opportune time," Ron continued. "Shacklebolt will no doubt give us the list of guards and times, so we can choose which guard would most likely fawn over Harry." Snape snorted at the fawning aspect of this prison break. Harry, who normally hated his fame, now felt no qualms at using it to his advantage. He was almost sorted into Slytherin, after all. Draco would be proud. "You forfeit your wand, and ask for some time alone with your poor, suffering _lover_, and when he--" Hermione glared. "Or she—leaves you turn Draco into a ferret and put him in your oversized coat. Or there could possibly be a boat outside of Draco's window that you could levitate him into. I think that would be the more entertaining solution."

Harry sighed, but in a fond way. He knew Ron actually somewhat (just a little) liked the blond now. "I'm not potentially levitating my boyfriend into who-knows-how-deep water."

"So the coat it is, then. Then, Harry would leave, _reluctantly_, seeming as if his heart is broken to see his _lover_ in prison and in so much pain. And you get your wand back, then voila! Instant rescue from Azkaban. This is quit the plan, if I do--"

"You treacherous muggle-lovers!" The sound of Walburga Black emanated throughout the house, alerting the plotters to the arrival of an Order member, the only people who could get into the house without setting off the wards. The table collectively rolled their eyes. She could be describing any Order member. Whoever it was would be walking into the kitchen soon, anyway, since the smell of hot food was coming from the room. Order members tended to follow their stomachs since they actually had time to enjoy food now that the war was over.

The portrait of the Black matriarch continued to spew insults which the group did not pay attention to. "It's probably Remus," Snape said, "And his chameleon of a wife." Despite his words, Snape's voice had softened thinking of his friend and his unlikely marriage partner.

Harry took a teacup from the table and began to practice wandless transfiguration, turning it into a mouse, then a rat, then a hamster, then a gerbil. He looked up at his Potions professor for approval, shoulders slumping when he realized that the man had not even noticed.

That's when Harry paid attention Walburga's continuing slander. "A blood-traitor from the Malfoy family, my own flesh and blood, in this house." _Malfoy?_

"Harry!" Bill's voice rang from the hallway, where the first-floor bathroom was located. Harry stood at the same time Professor Snape did, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He ran to the foyer, the others only a step behind him; he failed to notice Bill standing at the bottom of the stairs dripping wet in only a towel, focusing all of his attention on the frail blond in Kingsley Shacklebolt's arms.

"He's not moving!" Harry was almost afraid to touch the empath—afraid that if he did, Draco would not have a pulse or a heartbeat or working lungs. He looked so pale (more so than usual) and there were dark circles around his eyes that Harry could never remember seeing on the meticulous boy's face before. "I—is he?" Harry put out a hand to the other boy's cheek, only to find that it was cold. Tears sprung up in his eyes, and he let out a sob before putting a hand on his mouth, refusing to break down in front of everyone.

Snape was trying to do the same. He had always felt so responsible for this boy who he had trained to be a double agent. When he consented to Narcissa's plea to be Draco's godfather, Severus had never known that the position could come with such overwhelming emotions. He loved him as his own son (which was good, considering Lucius never had), and now he was watching Harry Potter touch his godson's corpse.

Actually, he was watching Draco turn his face towards Potter's touch.

"Harry," was the one word the empath said, as he was caressed by the Boy Who Lived. Harry then let out another sob, one of happiness and relief. Draco was alive! He then wrestled with the much larger Shacklebolt to take the smaller boy into his arms, knowing that he needed contact.

"Someone go get Pomfrey. We need to get him to a bed to get him warm. He's freezing." How inexplicable. Kingsley had wrapped him in the Azkaban issued blanket and his own Auror's cloak. Harry bolted up the stairs with Draco, who seemed as light as a feather.

At the top of the stairs, he darted right into the spare bedroom he had set up for himself for the duration of the rescue mission. Placing Draco in the bed, Harry immediately took all of the spare blankets that Ron had fetched from the linens closet. Ten blankets were on top of the Slytherin before Harry slid into the bed with him, making sure to create skin to skin contact. Under the blankets, he began to strip himself and the blond, hoping that the contact would cure the empath's malady.

Ron watched from beside the wardrobe where he had stationed himself after helping with the quilts and duvets. He turned red, but decided that he could be adult about the whole nakedness thing between his best friend and his former nemesis. After all, he had helped to bring down Voldemort and was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Ronald Weasley was maturity. And this _was _a life or death situation.

"I think I'm going to vomit." Ron made his way to the door, where everyone else had gathered. He then hid behind his girlfriend and studied her frizzy curls while listening to his surroundings.

Harry, meanwhile, was trying not to get an erection at the feel of Draco's naked flesh on his. And in front of so many people (including professors!). This really was not how he imagined his first time getting naked with someone else. Thankfully, his worry was overcoming his hormones.

"He's still so cold," he muttered to himself, wondering what was taking Pomfrey so long. Draco had started to move a bit, but had not opened his eyes, and was only making breathy noises that almost sounded like syllables. "Draco, love, please wake up." The pleading in Harry's voice almost gave way to sobs as he said, "Please, please. I need you. I…I-" He could not bring himself to finish his confession as he began to cry.

"Harry." It was there, but it was faint. Draco's voice sounded strained, unused. Harry's eyes went to his boyfriend's, which suddenly shot open. The look in his silvery-blue eyes reminded him of something he had read or seen a while ago. The pupils were completely dilated and there was a tinge of danger that warned the Gryffindor that he should probably back away while he could. Alas, Harry was not known for his willingness to do what was sensible, and vowed silently that he would stay with Draco through whatever this was.

"Harry…I feel you. Your mind. You…love me." Draco's voice was entrancing, as were his eyes. Something about this was all wrong. The empath seemed like a predator going in for the kill, and Harry could not look away. "I need…"

"What do you need?" Harry voiced his question at such a low volume that he could barely hear himself. He leaned in closer, his black hair falling into Draco's face, brushing that paler-than-usual skin. Draco responded by pushing his nose into the other's neck, smelling, sighing. Wrapped in the feeling of Draco naked, pressing against him, Harry did not notice the odd pin pricks at his neck until the fangs were already within him, drawing his blood from where it had pooled around his erection up to the bite.

Harry tried to flail to get assistance, but it felt so good to have Draco's teeth in him, to feel the other boy's sudden erection grind into his hip. He wondered if he would die like this, and then he wondered if he cared. Absently, he also wondered where everyone else had gone and why they weren't helping.

Then he didn't think anything at all as his eyelids grew heavy and he fell into unconsciousness.

Severus Snape, one of the three most powerful wizards in the world, swore loudly as he tried, and failed, to break through the invisible barrier that had suddenly gone up to prevent anyone from nearing the bed that Draco and Potter shared.

Longbottom had yelled in warning, the first to see Draco attack Potter's neck.

Now they all watched as the empath sucked the life out of the Boy Who Lived.

Where the hell was that wretched Headmaster when he was actually needed?

TBC…

I'll wrap it up in the next chapter, I think. I felt like a cliff-hanger, but you guys should know how I end things.


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